Sadness and Hope

A cold and windy day, but bright enough for me to (defiantly, I admit) take my coat off when I sat outside to have my cup of tea.  As the last two people from Britain to whom I have talked have mentioned scatterings of the White Stuff I feel that my move to the sunnier shores of the Med was more than justified.

            Today was the rally in the centre of Madrid in support of Podemos, the new, year-old party that aims to break the stranglehold of the old political parties.  Those moribund entities obviously still have institutional teeth which they are gnashing with the fury that comes with the growing realization that their particular gravy train may be coming to the end of the line.  What they are doing at the moment is, with breath-taking hypocrisy, character assassination of one of the leaders of Podemos.  The whole weight of the corrupt press and media are trying their damndest to throw dirt in the hope that some of it will stick.  They find no difficulty in ignoring the overwhelming weight of evidence which clearly shows that they are in no position to say anything about corruption they hope (and know) that if you throw enough smear some of it will stick.

            I am, daily, sickened by the frantic attempts of politicians, who can see their easy livelihoods disappearing in a wave of popular disgust, and who try and talk their way to cleanliness as if new words are going to wipe away old stinking deeds!

            Spain is a country where change is eagerly awaited.  The success of the reform party in Greece has given added momentum to the movement in this country and I wish them every success.

            Now the reality check.  I have already been proved wrong in my pessimistic forecast about the percentage that this new party could possibly hope to achieve.  In some polls Podemos is the highest scoring party ahead of the two main established parties of the left and right.  The old parties still have an overall majority and they are going to do everything they possibly can to keep the old, corrupt situation in place.

            The real battle is between PP (the irremediably corrupt and shamelessly mendacious party of the right) and Podemos.  The Spanish equivalent of the Labour party, PSOE, have made themselves more and more irrelevant by conniving with the government over things like the unconstitutional establishment of the reign of the present King and through their total inability to bring the kleptocracy of PP to account.

            But the established parties will retain their diehard supporters and the right frightens more easily than the left and they will close ranks around any bunch of disreputable thieves as long as they sport the PP name.  The left will, as the left always does, tear itself apart.  PP will be delighted to see battles between PSOE and Podemos – though the leadership of Podemos has been careful to resist the labels of right or left and maintains that it is a part which appeals to the whole of Spain and is a party, the only party, for real change.

            I hope that people will respond.  If I had a vote in the national elections this year then I would put my X next to Podemos.  I only hope enough people are as eager for change as I am and that they ignore their previous party affiliations and do the right thing.  I live in hope.

            My next book progresses.  I have one person thinking about translating the Tree poems into Spanish and another friend has agreed to translate them into Catalan.  I have plans for the drawings/illustrations and am looking forward to getting the volume organised.  My last two chapbooks have been produced with the emphasis on serendipity rather than a reasoned thematic approach – my next one will be, I hope, different.

            The wind is blowing gently in the background.  I do not mind this at night; it is during the day that I object!

Food and sand

The view through the window of the restaurant on the beach was light sepia tinted as the wind had whipped up enough sand to make watching the view better than actually being in it.  And when you have a meal as delightful as the one that I consumed to distract your attention from the lack of sun, one can be philosophical about the little lacks in life!

            To be fair, I think that I was still feeling some of the after effects of the liquid evening in the poetry group: I was stationed far to near the table with all the bottles on it and pushed a little outside the immediate circle into a little area of self indulgence all of my own.  Still, I did manage to make it back to the hotel and in far less time that I usually take.

            The last journey I made after the poetry was positively epic in the manner of one lost in some Surrealistic labyrinth.  I put it down to all those little cramped streets which lead away from the Cathedral in Barcelona.  At the back of my mind is the panic which almost took me away in Mykonos when, having secured a room, I scurried away to explore my surroundings and then couldn’t find the ‘hotel’ among all the other white blocks that Mykonos old town comprises.  I had to keep making my way back to the sea and then going into the exit which I remembered to be the right one and hoping against hope that I would simply come across the place and all would be well.  It took quite a few attempts but, as is the way with me, it worked out exactly as I expected it to and I was reunited with my passport, money, clothes, camera and everything.

            Well, old Barcelona is the same for me.  But this time when I hit the sea, as I have done on more than one occasion, I know that I have really and truly gone out of my way.

            And I hate wearing shoes.  Even if they are sports shoes.  Today after bowing to city prejudice I am suffering the consequences of not wearing my accustomed sandals.  I have to admit that the wearing of sandals in January is regarded as the most flamboyant form of eccentricity in a country that believes the month rather than the temperature and consequently expects everyone to be dressed for winter, even if, as I constantly maintain, the temperature is positively balmy for one of my country’s sons!

            Never mind, my feet are starting to recover and my late morning swim was more than usually welcome and refreshing.

            And I have finished a finalish draft of the poem that I started last night.  All my new poems, well, some of them, can be found at:

http://smrnewpoems.blogspot.com.es

            The Open University continues to take pride of place in my academic concerns especially as I have decided to use a Chilean painter Alvaro Guevara (1894-1951) as part of my research.  Although from Chile, he was sent to England to study the cloth trade in Bradford where his artistic ability was fostered, he won a scholarship to study in London and eventually became associate with the Bloomsbury Group and produced paintings around 1916/17 of swimmers and swimming.  I am trying (and failing) to find the present whereabouts of a painting called ‘Little Splash’ which I was hoping to compare with David Hockney’s larger and more famous version of the idea.

            As part of my research I have managed to get in contact with a great grand nephew of Guevara (now a candidate for a PhD in Leeds) and various other people and institutions in an attempt to get to know more about him.  At the moment I am stuck in one of those in-between times when things have been set in motion and could reveal excellent results, except they aren’t.  I live, however, in hope and, anyway I am enjoying myself trying to piece together enough information to make my research project work.  I have Plan B and indeed Plan C, should nothing more make it to this part of Spain, but I do hope that I can do something which will genuinely add to knowledge about someone who is perhaps unjustly neglected today.

           

            Meanwhile the wind continues to blow, but I confidently expect sun tomorrow.

Goodwill to all?

Christmas Day

Well, the log was truly thwacked last night and it duly shat its presents to the waiting masses.  And you have to be Catalan to understand that sentence, but take it from me I now am.

            Not, I hasten to add, that I am any more proficient in the language and history and culture of this excellent region, but rather that I am now the proud owner of a hoodie with the numbers 1714 emblazoned on the front and an artistically sketchy conglomeration of yellow and red with a star set in blue.  In other words I am now a fully functioning Catalan Independentista.  Though I have some considerable reservations around that designation.

            It is true that given the present government which is composed entirely of self-seeking, corrupt liars and which is led by a man whom I have designated, ‘Bromo’ (an incorrect, but masculine, perversion of the Spanish word ‘broma’ which means ‘joke’) who takes every opportunity to denigrate Catalonia and the Catalans, independence seems like a wholly acceptable idea.  But I think that the future is, to put it mildly, uncertain.

            The political situation is interesting.   Podemos is the new political party which promises to change the old corrupt Spain into something new.  Their policies are interesting and they seem to be determined to promote ideas of transparency (Spain is the ONLY developed European country not to have a transparency law) and legal equality (Spain has an extraordinary number of citizens who are above the ordinary dictates of the law – Britain and Germany have, for example none.)  The real problem comes with the election next year.

            According to the opinion polls both the major political parties PP (the sort of Conservative party which makes the British version look positively wholesome and guilt free) and PSOE (the sort of Labour party which would welcome Tony Blair as a socialist radical) have suffered quite deserved losses in their possible share of the vote.  The largest political party is now Podemos which was formed less than a year ago as a direct response to the woeful lack of decency that the two main parties displayed.

            If the opinion polls are correct and the population votes in the way that they indicate then Podemos would be the largest party in parliament.  It would not, however, have an overall majority and would need to be in coalition with another party or a series of smaller parties.  PP and PSOE would, between them, be able to stymie any truly progressive policies that Podemos brought forward.  The purity of Podemos would begin to be tarnished as they coped with the very grubby reality of the art of the possible in the murky political atmosphere of this country.

            With Podemos denied a working majority, with the other parties working against it to preserve their own shoddy self-seeking goals, Podemos would soon sink under the weight of disappointed expectations.  If they managed to form a minority government, there would be a vote of no confidence forced by the other parties, a new general election would be called, Podemos would be decimated and the old hegemony of two Old Party Rule would be re-established.  The People, yet again, would be the losers and the old guard fingers in the till politicos would be comfortably back at the trough.

            These are interesting times for Spain – but don’t hold your breath for anything approaching Justice to prevail.  So, at the moment, as I type this, alone in a sleeping flat in Terrassa, I wear my independence hoodie with something like desperation, in the hope that every gesture of possible separation will focus the governments’ eyes and bring them to a realization that the policies which have worked for them since the fall of Franco (god rot him) will not work in the future if they want to secure the unity of the country.

            It will be interesting (not that I am going to listen to him) to hear what the so-called King of Spain has to say in his Christmas Message.  Just think about it.  He is on the throne because his elephant killing, philandering, financially corrupt father made one mistake too many and to save the tarnished concept of monarchy in this country he abdicated in favour of his tall son.

            There is no provision for abdication in the Constitution of this country so PP and PSOE in an unwholesome and indicative clandestine alliance made up some pseudo-constitutional form of words and gave the throne to the crown prince.  No reference was made to the people of Spain and ignoring an on-line petition which demanded that the whole concept of the monarchy be put to the people in whose name this lanky scion of the discredited Bourbons purports to reign.

            So, thanks to PP and PSOE, the previous king, financially and morally corrupt as he was and is, gets indemnity so the paternity cases against him continue not to be heard in the Spanish courts; his financial machinations continue to be impenetrable because of the complete lack of transparency in dealings with the Royal Family and he has faded into almost complete invisibility so that the untarnished bloom of the new long King is allowed to blind people to the obvious inequality and injustice that the whole system flaunts.

            The previous king, in a notorious and mendacious broadcast which has been much replayed, stated that ‘justice is the same for all’ – a laudable, if laughable statement as the king and the people who promote him are clearly above the law.  The most glaring example of injustice was the position of the Infanta.

            The Infanta (the old king’s daughter and the present king’s sister) together with her ex-sportsman husband have been accused of theft.  The presumption of innocence is difficult when the evidence that has been made public is overwhelming, but the Public Prosecutor has been a staunch ally to this beleaguered royal (! sic!) and while saying she has to pay money back (i.e. guilty) she was blinded by love and trusted her husband (i.e. innocent).  When she was (amazingly) forced to go to a closed hearing in court, her responses to questions were a few hundred variations on the ‘I don’t know’.  Anyone other than a member of the royal family would have been accused of contempt of court, but her admission of what amounts to idiocy was seen by the Public Prosecutor (i.e. the person who works on our behalf to prosecute those guilty of crimes, like the Infanta) saw only charming naivety and glowing innocence.

            Basically she got away with it.  The country fumed but could do nothing.  The judge had been overruled and the concept of ‘justice is the same for everyone’ was clearly seen as the lie that it is.

            But, and this is why the king’s broadcast will be interesting, the judge refused to be overruled and has demanded that the Infanta return to court and answer to charges that, were she to be found guilty, would carry a sentence of four years in jail.  So the king has a choice: either ignore what is happening to his family and you show your regal arrogance or make a reference and reignite the obvious lie of universal justice.  It is a no-win situation for him and his type and I am glad that he has an impossible choice to make.  Although, to be truthful, the most obvious lies and sleight of hand in this country seem to work.  Look at the number of proven thieves who still operate at the highest levels of political society in spite of the glaring light of publicity showing exactly why they are where they are!

            This is hardly the stuff to be writing on Christmas Day, but given the state of Spain, what else is there to write about?

            Well, loads if I care to think about it.  Like what we are going to have for lunch.  This is going to be a family affair with something like 16 people sitting down to the meal.  All in Toni’s sister’s house.  All participants are supposed to bring something to eat.  I have bought the booze.  Which, considering the number of people would normally be woefully inadequate.  I have bought two bottles of Cava, two bottles of red, two bottles or white and a bottle of liqueur.  I have bought no beer, or Fanta or any soft drink.  And those, I hope will be what most of the people there will be drinking.  I have bought decent bottles (i.e. about three times as much as I would normally spend) and I intend to savour it!

            So far I have done quite well on the present front.  The hoodie previously mentioned combined with quite acceptable aftershave, including the one advertised by the impossibly sculpted ex-Australian football player hefting a trophy on his naked shoulder.  I am sure that I could have made something of advert and the bottle in the shape of a silver handled cup as essential part of my Media Studies lessons in the School on the Hill.  But those days are well and truly and thankfully past and now I can merely speculate and squirt.  Which sounds a bloody sight worse than I intended when I wrote it!

            I have my art books with me and I should be drafting my TMA, but it is already the afternoon and we have to start thinking about getting ready for the Christmas Meal.  Which is in someone else’s house, which is another Christmas gift as there is not the putting away and clearing up that comes with a personal involvement of house provision!

            I have also bought a rather pesky poem with me which refuses to resolve itself into something that I can regard as acceptable.  Perhaps a different environment will give my poetic muse a kick up her refined backside and get the words working!

            Worth a try – and that goes for everything else as well.

            

What holiday?

The comic opera that is the government of Spain continues, with an impunity that takes the breath away, to cavort across the nation with barely a nod towards what even the most debased would consider the barest moral niceties.  The proven corruption of what appears to be the majority of the government, the continual stream of stories which show the contempt that those in power have towards the people who elected them, the cosy to the point of live-in partners that this joke party has with the major firms in Spain – pointless to go on.  The more financial and power manipulation disgrace comes to light the more the government carries on in its own defiantly corrupt way.

            The latest horror from this bunch of freaks has been a Draconian set of laws which try to ensure that there will be fantastically punitive fines for those who protest, take photos of police abuse, stop the banks repossessing the homes of those that the banks themselves have impoverished – enabled to do that by the use of our money to stay in business.

            Spain, these days, is a cynic’s delight!  Take your pick of the political character, the political party, the firm, the public character and there will be disgrace aplenty to keep your bile duct operating at full strength.

            In Catalonia we have the sad picture of an ex-president, together with his Mafia-like family clan being taken to court for industrial hoovering of cash from his time in public office.  Toni feels personally let down by this traitor as he believed in him and voted for him.  The amount of money that this piece of filth and his equally dirty family has salted away in a variety of foreign banks is so vast as to be in the realms of fantasy.

            A further irony about this Catalan case is that the prosecution is proceeding at a very speedy pace – as opposed to the multitude of cases outstanding which point to the wholesale corruption of the governing party.  This, of course merely boosts the (already gigantic) Catalan sense of persecution by the Spanish state.  Every day that the living joke that parades around as President of this country is a day when yet more Catalan separatists are made.

           

Still, my poetry is going well – they do say that the arts flourish in difficult times.  If that really is the case then we should be seeing a Renaissance taking place in Spain.  I have yet to see the fruits, except of course in the case of my poems!

            Plans for the next book are well advanced and I have been to the publishers to check that they can do what I want.  All I have to do now is write the poems to put in it.  A minor point!  I am determined that this book is going to be somewhat different to the last ones as I intend to give it a stronger structure than in the last ones.  And that is more difficult than I thought it was going to be.  I’ve tried a draft structure with what I’ve written at the moment and that was hard going.  I am well aware that next year is a bloody sight nearer than the date suggests.  There is always a feeling that January is a long way away, even when it is just around the corner!  However, I have given myself a deadline of the summer to get the content of the book ready and to have it ready for publication for a significant date in October of next year.  That seems like an expansive timetable, but I am acutely aware that time slips away with gathering speed!

           

            I am now in the midst of writing the next tutor marked assignment for the Open University course and have the delights of an on-line tutorial this evening to look forward to.  The writing has to be submitted by the 8^th of January which seems in the far distance, but, and especially during the Christmas period, that distance has a way of becoming illusory.

           

The part of the holiday period spent away from home in Terrassa will probably be from Christmas Eve to My Name Day – that should both of us enough time to get down to the details of our studies.  Toni has examinations in January, so those are concentrating his mind wonderfully at the moment to the exclusion of more festive thoughts.

            As we are going to have a domestic Christmas meal the food is going to be provided by the participants.  I’m buggered if I am going to make anything so I am getting the booze.  This is far less intimidating for a group of Catalans than it would be for a similar British occasion.  I took the opportunity to go to the little wine shop that I have discovered in Castelldefels and from which I got a truly excellent Cava from a little family winery.  I have taken all of the recommendations from the little man in the shop and have two bottles of white, two bottles of red and two bottles of Cava.  I will probably be the only person in the meal who will be able to give an opinion about all of those.  Not because they will all be too drunk to articulate, but because I will be the only person to sample them all!  There are advantages to having a surrogate Catalan family at times like this!

            I have also bought an interesting bottle of some sort of liqueur that will be an exploration for all of us.  My intention is to get a set of disposable plastic shot glasses and force the rest of the family to sample it.  Wish me luck because I will probably end up necking it for shame’s sake!

            We have bought no presents.  None.  At all.  I am not panicking because all of the presents that we need to buy are for Toni’s family.  They will have bought for us and so we have a moral obligation to get something.  But I am not panicking.  Not at all.  There is plenty of time.  Plenty.  I mean, it’s only the 18^th.  Christmas Eve is a week away.  No sweat.